New Britain Herald Newspaper, August 10, 1918, Page 5

NEW BRI GIRL 1 TAIN DAILY HERALD, SATURDAY, AUGUST 10, 1918. : k1 = ISH BRIT PORTS INSPIRES] SEAMEN TO GO OUT AND CLEAN ENTIRE SE Boysof Mosquito Fleet, Who Find French Ports Dreary and Full| of ‘“‘Homesickness Germs,” Go| Back to Their Ships Cheerful and Ready for Anything after Meeting the Women Workers Who have Gone ‘‘Over There”’] to Make France Look as Much| Like Home as Possible. BY REGINALD WRIGHT KAUFFMAN uniform of a sailor in the Unitea States Navy. He had come fnto this little Troom, opening off the maip 3ireet of the dreary French Poiv. with just a bit of a swagger. | “Des ocigarettes,”” he said, and flung wpon the counter a fifty-franc bill. “What brand do you prefer?” asked the girl-behind-the-counter, Instantly, that faint hint of bra- vado passed from the boyish face, leaving it clean and manly—glad, too, and yet wistful. | “Gee!” he cried. “You're an American, aren't you? Great guns, but it’s good to hear American talked | in this town.” He drew out, as long as he dared, the details of his purchase. He went eway slowly, and presently returned end bought some more cigarettes. He bung about the room, and thep bought still more. He ostentatiously pulled out a shining cigarette case from a pocket, and filled it. | The clerk couldn’t help a smile. | “You must smoke a great deal” che said The sailor blushed. “It's not that,” he confessed, “but—well, just to| bear yon talk is like home!” He| fumbled with the cigarette case. | “See that?” he said. “I got it to-| day from my folks in Boston. That monogram—they’re my initials. I guessed maybe tbey'd send me ciga- rettes, but 1 didn’t expect the casa As it was, the case came alone.” t's very pretty,” sald the clerk. “It’s the first word I've had from Bome for three months,” said the boy. “They don’t write?” He turned . “I guess the mails are all balled-up.” “Still, you did get the case.” ® LETTERS, THE DEMAND “Bure; but I'd rather had a letter than a hundred cigarette cases. Of course I'm glad I enlisted: but, gee, if the people at home knew how bad us fellows wanted letters, they’s write every day, even if they didn't bave nothin’ to say except ‘Yours truly’ If they only knew ! That sailor was a fair example of our young seamen in France: unfal- tering in his determination to do his duty, but unremittingly homesick. The room in which he revealed his heart was one of many such rooms where, dally, many of our enlisted men are moved to similar confessions: their one healthy substitute for home, the Y. M. C. A headquarters at a French port. These boys are the keepers-up of commerce, the food-bringers, the sleepless guides and guardians of our troops that cross the sea. “The work of the Mosquito Fleet 48 nothing short of wonderful” a French admiral recently declared. *In the last report of two hundred and fifty ships convoyed, only three losses were reported; since the Mos- quito Fleet came here, the S. O. calls due to mines and submarine at- tacks have decreased fifty per cent.”’ These results are achieved only by labor that is hard, dengerous, and without recorded praise. There are daye when men have to stand on watch for fourteen hours without re- lief; whole voyages when the gun- erews have never moved more than five feet from their guns, snatching eleep on the rain-washed decks: cruises when the men in the fire room apd before the engines have never once been able to come up for a ‘breath of fresh air. WITHOUT A WHIMPER, that is borne without & whimper. The sailors read, now and then, a stray home paper and see the accounts of cheering crowds bid- ding Godspeed to this or that depart- ing. regiment; they feel that all the public’s heart is going out to the army. They don’t at all realize their own devotion, and their attitude is almost that of apology for mot more ;mmfl.my serving their country. will tell you that they are glad they “jumped to the guns,” but every mall brings news of friends that stayed behind and have won commis- etone at the Reserve Officers’ Train- ing Oampe. And then the ship comes back to port, and there are liherty parties going ashore. The British sail given his drink ration; the Br M. C A serves light beer. Tt isn’t thus with our men. At sea there obtains only the taut rule of fiat virtue, and the man that goes ashore is his own master. Do you begin to see now the prob- dem that our Y. M. C. A. has to face? Any Americen saflor man will get Bomesick after a week here, and it’s Just homesickness that’s the matter with most of these kids: if they ean’t be cured of it, they'll DO some: thing to forget it.” Yet all . | branch of hands with you and cleared his throat and said youw'd be coming back to put him out of business, and yowd held. your head high and joked—if you remember that, you will agren with me that to be homesick is t be as miserable as it is possible for the human being to become. But t be homesick and yet to give a home to the homeless is to be something very nearly herofe. Of that I saw, in this port, a recent instance: I came across three little children —boys—standing in a doorway on a quiet street, the eldest perhaps twelve years old, the youngest not a day over five. They would have been remarkable among the other children of this somewhat rowdy port if only for their cleanliness and for the cleanliness of the elderly woman that was manifestly ecaring for them They were the more remarkable be- cause each wore a sailor's cap, on the band of which was inscribed the name of a certain boat in the Mos- | | | TTHOUGH he was a mere|goodbye and cried a litfle and toid! lad—he didn’t look a day|you to send home all your socks for| over seventeen—he wore the| mending, and your father'd shaken quito Fleet, and becanse they were! all dressed in an infantile replica of the uniform of able seamen in the United States Navy. They were shy Httle boys, but the woman in charge of them explainod their habiliments: WHY SAILORS ARE WORTHY. “But, yes, monmsieur. They were all that was left of a family. The father was killed at Verdun, the mother died in an accident at a fac- tory of munitions; so that good sail- ors upon one of your country’s little ships have adopted them, and are keeping them, and will educate them. They have rented for them rooms in this house, and they have employed me to keep them, and, whenever their ship is in port, these sailors, they fail not to come here and receive word of their wards, and they give them chocolates till the litle ones are ill.” What do the chocolates matter? d| There is something worth doing for men who will take upon themselves such obligations as this. Something worth doing—and the Y. M. C. A. is trying to do it. There are a_headquarters and other build- ings in every French port that ia used by our navy—fifty buildings in all—condncted by workers whose pay does not quite meet their expensea and whose tasks continue from sun to sun. MANY DIFFICULTIES, At no ome place are there often more than three hundred men ashore at a time, and so 1b is easier to establish the personal relationshi between the association worker an the sailor than between worker and soldier in the soldier huts at the American camp. But the ports are cities, whereas the cemp stretchee among mere villages, so that the forces sagainst which the naval the Y. M. C. A. has to contend are the stronger. I went to an evening entertain- ment given by the British Y. M. C. A. for the Amerfean Y. M. C. A’s patrons in the rooms of the French equivalent of the association. There was a reading room full of magazines and o growing library, free writing materials, a piano around which was grouped a day-long chorus of sailor- men, moving picture shows, a hall for basket ball, a baseball grounds, fifty clean beds at a franc apiece a night—and & clean bed iz a hixury as well as & moral force—an apart- ment house for seventeen petty- officers permanently employed ashore, a phonograph over which P’ve sesn & lonely lad sit all afternoon rmning off songs reminiscent of his child- hood, a canteen that scld chewing- guin, and candy. Thess may sound like trifles topAmericans at home, but to the American eeilor abroad, to whom only the Y. M. C. A. provides them, they become something large and vital. They become America. “There’s good grub on our tub, but not enough that's sweet. Gimme some more of those gum-drops.” “What’s this? TLemonade? Yes, but what’s it made of? Citron- syrup and seltzer! And vou eall that lemonade? Oh. well, give us another glass of it; it’s as close as a fellow can come to it over here. When are you goin’ to able to afiord a soda-fountain ?” s MEETING FRENCH GIRLS, If T heard those comments once during en afternoon that T pa i a naval Y. M. C. A, T heard dozen times. Unbelievable quantit of chocolate are sold in a form that be easily heated and drunk i night-watehes at sea, and the millior:aire that wants to do effective work against aleoholism could do none more effective than to donate soda fountains and hot chocolate ma- chines to the association in these porte. be To be homesick—and, if you re- member your first board school €ag, after gour motberd kissed you Ome innovetien introduced recently is thus far working well: parties of | young French women of the best up- bringing are formed, under maternal chaperonage, to mest sailors of their own sort that have some knowledge of the French language. It is at these gatherings that the sailor talks most g:sely, and most lightly, of his work., “Looking for subs? I heard one say to his newly met companion. “I am going blind doing it! There is the sub that makes up to look like a sail- ing vessel, and the one that hides its periscope ‘behind an imitation shark- fin, and now they’ve got one that spouts water like a whale. The por- poises drive us crazy: something came dashing at our boat the other day; fts track was exactly like a tor- pedo’s. Humphrey saw it first. He pointed it out to me. ‘We're gone this time!’ he yelled. Then it jumped, and we saw it was a porpoise. We call porpoises Humphrey —torpedoes’ ow. The French girl wanted to know about rescues at-sea. PICK UP SURVIVORS “Laet trip,” she was informed, “we picked up three small boats with fifty-nine men in them. About half of those men were from a ship that had been torpedoed the day before. They got away and were taken on a passing steamer, and they hedn’t been aboard her for twelve hours he- fore she was torpedoed, too. We got those fellows into the drum-room and leid them over the boilers. When- ever we sight a life boat the com missary steward starts supplies of soup and coffee, so we had plenty of the warm stuff ready for them, and we lent. them our clothes while their own were drying.” His companion langhed. “Why don’t you tell the rest?” he asked. “Oh, what's the use !™ grumbled the first sailor. “Then I'Il tell it” persisted the second. “Our crew’s clothes were so much better than the slops the rescued men had come gboard in that some of the rescued forgot to change back to their own duds before they went ashore. If you sce any stray imiforms walking around this townm, they’re ours.” However, if good company is ® moral force mot to be neglected, so is good food, and in that partieulsr the Y. M. C. A. has thus far been fortunate. Thers is a story told in one port, where Vineent Astor has been staying when on shore leave, to the effect that he was complaining of the restaurant in his hotel. “You can’t get a really good meal there,” said Astor. WHERE TO GET GOOD MEAL His auditor happened to be satis- factorily fresh from another sort of resteurant. “I just now had a good dinner at the l} M. C. A.,” he ven- tured. “Oh, there!” said Astor. you did. The Y. M. C. A eating place in town.” Mr. Astor ought to know, becaunss that eating place is of his wife’s making. Q%l bought and turned over to the association the one really good restaurant that could be found, and she has ever since been personall active in its arrangements “Yon get real food there,” a sailor recently told me. “Real food. Y know what T mean—ham-an’-eggs an’ steak-an’-fried-onions.” It is said that Mrs. Astor used to help wait on table when the service was shorthanded, and that one of th first persons upon whom she wai was g newly enlisted man in the United States Navy who, until a month previous, had been the dining room steward on Mrs. Astor’s cwn vach 7 “Of course ’s the best t, e,” the stewnrd is reported to have commentad, “when I used to wait on her, I had to wear evening clothes.” - | the seventy-fives! 7 “Goe It's Great To Hear ‘American’ Talked in Francel” Y. M. C. A has to deal, is all sorts. | starboard rail. They are of the two extremes and| ‘“That boy,” every grade between, but once [bey‘to are in Uncle Sam’s navy there is no|from a distinction. he has to his country; that makm‘ them kin. Let me exemplify: I was just coming in from my first| “As a coal aruise with the Mosquito Fleet leaned against he said, as he nodded a blackened, barefoot lad emerging hatchway, ‘“got i Each man is offering all | French at Harvard last spring.” “And he’s here as & common sea- man?” I wondered heaver,” the quarter- The | master corrected me. the lot of college men aboard. volunteers. Of course, had yachting experience, but honors in [ them till a certain litle thing hap pened on the voyage over. “A fire started in our out of the “We've got a They’re they've all the bred-to-the-service fellows laughed at rt eoal- bunkers when we were three days port we were bound for. A hatch ’d been left open and there 'd llége man X I don’t want to rutting on side.” That is one exam other: ia ,To an orderly entertainment a Y. M. € & bullding came ong Akn & brilliantly illuminated hostswain’s mate. He was a splendid specimen of physical manhood, six fesi three inches, and as hard as nsils. But he was intent on “starting something.™ He stopped, with one bellowing command, the singer on the stage. He knocked down two of his protest. m% friends, ;pilled a ecrowded bench and swaggered up to the secretary in charge with the majesty of 2 breaker sweeping toward the beach. ‘T'm going to break up this show® he gaid. : Tt Jooked wery muck as if he would, too. }'w)w. the secretary in charge was & quiet and unsssuming man. He hed done wonders in his work among our fleet in French waters, but he epoks Here's an~ at our navy's ports in France, the quartermaster | Up at the front with the American army are two jobs so closely related they are one—the artillery- man's and the observer’s. The first delivers the goods, the second tells him what doorstep to leave it on, and corrects any misapprehensions he may have as to where he is leaving fit. During the night there had been a tremendous bar- rage. Hundreds of guns of all sizes and voices had made it exceeding uncomfortable for Fritzie, who {8 perched on a famous mountain which seems only a stone’s throw away. The guns had fired for two hours and our fellows had gone over the top and come back with prisoners and captured machine guns. In the morning I went back to the nearest bat- tery to ask how they went about it. The battery consisted of French nineties and seventy-fives. They were hidden away in bomb proof emplacements of interesting consiruction. The construction had to be interesting because Fritz knew the battery was there, and paid it constder- able attention. Every once in a while he would drop a shell near by. A general showed us his wall map of the vicinity on which was marked every German trench and post, every stone and blade of grass, it seemed, and then expiained the barrage. PURPOSES OF BARRAGE “The theory was to wall in that section of trenches,” he said. ‘Part of the guns enclosed the locality in a barrage while others of us played on the communicating trenches to keep reinforcements from coming up. The idea is to keep in the area all the men who are there and to let nobody come in to help them.” “But you can’t see those trenches. u are hitting them?” Tvers,” was the curt answer. ‘“We know the location of the trench and then register upon it. The observers correct our fire unt{l we have the range exactly, and then we wait for the time. Orders come that there will be such and such a barrage on “J” day and zero hour, And we are ready.” The thing that tapped one on the shoulder about theso boys wag their attitude toward the guns. They seemed to feel toward them 8s a person might feel toward e s=plendid fighting bull dog. The seventy-fives called out the hest esteem. The nineties were good; they did the business, but Now there were guns. | “They won’t let us fire but six times a minute,” | & sergeant sald with the air of a man who had been personally offended { TORN BY HUN SHELLS All around the emplacements the ground weas torn and upheaved by Hun shells which had been zent over as a compliment to this battery. Out in the fleld were two great craters sharply visible over tha Test. “Hey,” called a man from the other end of the line j of bomb proofs, “here comes & Y. M. C. A. man with oats.” Boys cozed out of caves and bemb proofs with thelr tongues feirly hapging out. Thelr statien is with their guns, and their mess {8 on the spot so they have Iittle chanse to get over to the canteen, The | “Y" man, being competent to flll his job, knew thls, How do you i |FINDING FRITZ OBSERVER'S JOB BY CLARENCE BUDINGTON KELLAND wares on his pack—cakes, cookies, cannmed stuff, cigarettes. “Much obliged for running over,” said the lleuten- ant. “We sure appreciate it.” That seems to be the attitude of the officers and men at the front towards the Red Triangle. the “Y"” we sure would be up against t.” “I'm going ahead to some of the observation posts,” the “¥” man told me. “Want to take a chance?” We arrived at a town and found a lieutenant sit- ting down in a trench. Before him a narrow slit opened into & plle—gnd into utter blackness, HOW OBSERVER WORKS “Observation post,” said my comductor. The lleutenant was glad to see us, especially when I told him I was so recently from home, and took ue within. There, in a little room in which one could barely stand upright, was the paraphernalia by which the Hun {8 supervised in his goings and comings. and by which our artillery 1s informed if it is hitting the mark. Faocing the Hun was a narrow horizontal slit across the wall. Over thig hung a curtain, because Fritz in his observation posts across No Man's Land might gee that slit through his glasses if light were allowed to pass through it and then very shortly there would be no observation post. Provided it suited Fritz’s humor to abolish it. We looked through the glasses at the beautiful mountain slope opposite, famous in the history of the war, and which now is the most formidable bar in the way of our troops if they set out to take back from Germany a city which France claims for her own. With the naked eye this mountsin slope seems quiet and peaceful. There 8 no sign of life, not even of smoke from a mess fire. Through the glasses, as they are directed by the lieutenant, barbed wire entanglements, lines of trenches, concrete gun em- placements and what not ean be sharply dietin- guished. WHAT FRITZ IS DOING ‘“Look along the top of that ridge. What do you make out?” “Nothing.” “Right under the hair in the giaes now. Sharp.| The hair is touching the top of it.” StiN 1 made out nothing. “Camoufiage.” Just then a shell came over and burat on top of a stone wall behind us. Maybe it was intended for us, and maybe it was fust a warning for us to be- heve ourselves. Anyhow I was impressed. “See,” sald the léutenant, “They could get us if they wanted to. Say, Wharton,” Wharton was the “Y" secretary, “Give me a can of peaches on the strength of that.” High in the air over our heads we could hesr the planing-mili hum of a couple of American a lanes teking a look-see. They were not fighting planes, but observation planes. Their duty was to get more direct and accurate informstion than ¢ould be had from any listening post, “This morning the Boohe got cne out there,” said the lieutenant, “They were after with machins guns. I saw he was in trouble him comin down, His mackine was on fire and he Jumped ou with his hands up. He hadn® a chance, Tho sort of men, then, with which, |8ad made frequent tripd oVer With & pack of his | came out and got him,” “Much obliged and we appreciste it—Say, if it wasn’t for And they| n & small vofee and moved gently. “Tf Y were you,® said the seere- tary, “T wouldn't interfere.” “The hell you wouldn’t!” said the boatéwain’s “mate and chook s mighty fleb. @ A MT88 AND A MIT, “Pleasa don’t,” said the secretary, © Tho big st shot formard— f t bit - anything. Tt vwas shunted aside as a lfih twist of the slim switech shunts a train of coal mr:. "!t dlrt the boatsawain’s mate after nto vacant s n as the boatsmain’s mate p:::?h;’, romething caught him—something uncommonly like an express engi on the point of the jaw, and sent him smashing to the floor. _Then the quiet secretary picked the gianb up in his arms and carried him to & back room, of which the two were the only cocupants. “T hope I haven’t hurt you,” said the secretary. “T tried not to.” The secretery was a Presbyterian minister. He was also a Colorado rancher. And also he had been the best boxer in Princeton during day there; his name is O. ¥. Gardner. He nursed that boatswain’s mate | back to sobriety and got him on his ship in time to escape reprimand. . The next night the eailor turned up again at the Y. M. C. A, ?mfldln% i "dI’v- come hers to apologize,” he said. “That's 2!l right” said the secre- - tary. “No, it ain’t,” the saflor persisted. “T made a nuigance of myself befo.e ell this crowd, and it’s before tha whole crowd that I've got to apolo- gize. Here, $ou swipes!” he bel lowed. BOATSWAIN'S APOLOGY, man in the room fell silent. tswain's mate addressed Eve them: | “I want to lell, you fellows” he {said, “that I was a fool last night, and got what was comin’ to me; but I'm not such & fool but what I can learn a lesson. I'm cuttin’ out the booze. That man there treated me square, and saved me from trouble aboard ship, and after tonight if any | slob tries 10 get fresh around this lace, why any such guy’s got to kle the two of us” Some college men end some men that have hardly been to school at all, & group of millionaires and & scattering of rough-necks, but evary one sound at heart and~brave in potion—these make up the Mosquito Fleot. Tka worst aren’t bad, they are only lonely. The best are enduring [ Lngeroua and, what i{s more, a hideously monotonous, life afioat and one beset with the tempiation of emotional ron nore. For both gorts the choic rxu_l’ ”ieh between the sordidness of a foreign port and the Y. M. C. A, ‘Which nra you fer—tihe Y. M. O, &, jor the port!? 13